


The Signs

by greenstuff (orphan_account)



Series: You Asked for It [6]
Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Drug Addiction, F/M, Overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If US Marshal Mary Shannon had learned anything in her eight years working for WITSEC it was that phone calls at three in the morning never meant anything good</p>
<p>prompt response from mary-marshall.livejournal.com’s post-fifth-season-commentfic</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Signs

**Author's Note:**

> The Prompt: Mary, Abigail You're a detective you should've seen the signs.  
> **WARNING: discussion of drug use/addiction**

If US Marshal Mary Shannon had learned anything in her eight years working for WITSEC it was that phone calls at three in the morning never meant anything good. She fumbled, still mostly asleep, for her buzzing Blackberry and answered with a groggy, “What?”   
  
“Mary, it’s Marshall… he’s…” Her boss’s wife sounded like she was near tears. “You need to come to the hospital.”   
  
“Jesus, what did he do  _this_  time?” Mary asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.   
  
The only answer was the annoying hum of a dial tone. Mary tossed the phone down and threw on the first clean clothes she could find. She drove ten miles over the limit the entire way to the hospital, treating most traffic lights like suggestions. She was there in under ten minutes.   
  
A surly nurse directed her to a waiting room where she found Abigail Mann-Chaffee, white faced and trembling. “Oh God, Mary!” Abigail threw herself at Mary, flinging her arms around Mary’s neck and clinging tightly.   
  
Mary patted her back awkwardly, barely resisting the instinctive urge to shove as hard as she could to get free of the unwanted embrace. “Abigail, what happened?”  
  
“Th-they s-s-said it w-was a-an o-overd-dose,” Abigail choked out between sobs.   
  
“Marshall doesn’t do drugs.” Mary said matter-of-factly. Clearly someone at the hospital did if they thought Marshall Mann had OD’d.   
  
Abigail only cried harder. “I-I-I-I d-don’t knoooow.” Her tears and snot ran in a river down Mary’s neck. “H-he’s been s-so d-d-d-distant. I th-thought he w-was j-j-j-just having an affaaaaaair.”   
  
Before Mary could put words to the thoughts racing through her brain a doctor in bright green scrubs and a lab coat approached them. “Mrs. Mann?”  
  
Abby pulled away from Mary and flashed the doctor a watery smile. “How is he?”  
  
“Your husband was very lucky. He’s in the Intensive Care Unit, but he is stable for now.” The doctor looked awkward for a moment before continuing, “I would like to talk to you about rehabilitation options for your husband before he is released. Here’s my card,” he handed Abby a business card, “call me any time.”   
  
“Rehabilitation?” Mary asked.   
  
“Opiates are a very difficult addiction to break. Mr. Mann will struggle with this for the rest of his life. His best option is to get help right away.”   
  
Mary nodded politely and joined Abby in thanking the doctor, but the moment he left the room she turned on Abby. “How could you miss this? You’re his wife!”  
  
“You see him more than I do.” Abby countered, her tone resentful. “He’s at that office ninety hours every week. Why didn’t  _you_  see it coming?”  
  
“You’re the detective!” Mary spat, “You should’ve seen the signs.”   
  
“Get. Out.” Abby said, crossing her arms across her chest and glowering at Mary.   
  
“Get him some help.” Mary said, turning on her heel and stalking from the waiting room. She would leave for now, but Abigail was right about one thing, Marshall was with Mary 90 hour a week, and she would make damn sure every one of those hours was a sober one. 


End file.
